#pizza index????

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

(*Smashes through the door* I have finished the thing

I did lose steam part of the way through, so the ending is a little tepid, but I think it's still cute, hehe

Basically, this is 'Pep experiences fireworks for the first time and it is not fun'

Content warnings for: Depiction of a panic attack, self-harm (unintentional but still), descriptions of body horror, (sorta) flashback to war, an implied gun, and Peppino says fuck

Okay enjoy! (1,403 words under dere!!!)

It was busy.

Busier than usual.

Unusual for a Tuesday, but Pep didn't mind. He was more than happy to create and share his pizzas with others. But all the extra business aside, something else was unusual today, and Pep could not stop tasting it.

There was a constant saltiness to Peppino, most likely due to how much the man sweat, but the ever-growing pungency of raw onions and black pepper began to give his doppelgänger cause for concern. Was it just the amount of people visiting today? Was something going to happen? Pep did not know, but the thoughts caused his own anxieties to start bubbling in his chest. He chose not to ask, instead continuing on with helping Peppino close up shop for the evening.

The sky was very pretty at this time. Oranges, pinks and purples, as the sun said goodbye for today. Pep liked to watch the colours shift and change into deeper blues and indigos, but it didn't feel right today. He lifted his head from his arms, parts of where his chin and forearms began to merge getting pulled apart, and looked at the door of Peppino's room. It was made quite clear early on not to disturb him when the door was closed, and Pep respected his space, despite the gnawing urge to knock on his door. The clone gave a quiet huff, again noting the taste of pepper and onions, and… Something bitter…? Oh, cilantro… Yuck. Pep hadn't figured out what that taste was for Peppino yet, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant one. His eyes rolled in their sockets for a moment, trying to recall memories of cilantro. He thought back to just a few hours ago - Peppino did seem hesitant to say goodbye to Gustavo and Brick… Was it something to do with them?

Pep didn't have much time to ponder, as a shrill sound pierced through his thoughts, shattering them with a BANG. He was suddenly on high alert, skin inhumanely stretched up into points along his back and shoulders. There was another screeeeeech, and a BANG. His chest heaved as simulated breath grew tight in his non-existent lungs. And another. His nails dug into the windowsill, the black colouring beginning to spiral up his fingers. And another. Pep's vision started to blur as his eyeballs melted in his form of crying, but he could still see with every boom, colours flashed and danced outside. Was this some sort of warning? An attack? He couldn't make sense of it, as yet another BANG brought his hands to his ears. His doughy skin making a wet slap against itself as his fear made his form quickly unstable. There were other sounds too - crackling, popping, screaming… Or was it cheering…? - It didn't matter! Pep wanted it all blocked out, as he held onto his head tighter and tighter. His hands fused into his ears and cheeks, becoming unrecognisable as what they were supposed to be. But his fingers held strong, now striped with black as his sharpened nails buried themselves deep into his head. Every boom jolted him to his core. The smell of gunpowder made him sick- No, wait- He didn't know what that was? Did he? He felt himself sink further and further down into the mud. His lower body was caked in the stuff- No! There was no mud-! Why is there mud? Pep managed a look down, finding not a puddle of his legs, but… Boots? He didn't… Wear boots? Did he? He saw… Shrapnel around his feet. Discarded, pointed pieces of metals… But how did he know that? He couldn't of known that- Another BANG, followed by the crackling once more. He braced himself against the wall as dirt was thrown up into the air nearby. His grip tightened around the cool metal. Finger ready on the trigger- On the what? His hands were practically nothing! How was he holding-

"…-p…!"

…Huh?

"…-ep…!"

Something was warm. Warm, and clammy… It was frantic, but still gentle, as it pawed at him.

"Pep!"

Through all the bangs and pops, Pep heard Peppino, calling for him. Even though his body was just a puddle, he found his eyes and forced them to the surface of his being. Peppino leaned over him, looking more stressed than usual. Sweat beading down his face and something slick and oily on his hands…? Oh… That was himself… Pep force an ear to form, as Peppino seemed to be saying something, but it was too muffled to understand, and too fast for him to lip-read.

"-uda told you! I shoulda stayed out here! Fuck! Please be okay-!"

Pep just barely managed to process his words, most of his focus on trying to keep his features formed. His eyelids closed hard over his eyes, blinking a few times as his brow came together. He could feel his fingers forming, trying to pull himself out of himself. A dull, thudding pain made itself known, as his brain reformed, along with most of his head. His eyes weren't quite back in their oversized sockets, but Pep did notice Peppino's shoulders relax a little. Teeth and tongue came next, clumsily gnashing together in an attempt to speak, but it only came out as garbled, incomprehensible sounds.

"Hey! Hey! It's alright! Uh, take your time… Getting back together?" Peppino spoke slower than earlier, but there was anxiety on the edge of his words. Pep managed a soft noise in acknowledgement, pushing the parts of his face into the correct places. His neck and shoulders started to form, but he quickly felt the exhaustion weighing on him. He would not be able to form all the way. But he could at least pull as much of his melted lower half in as possible, becoming more compact and less of a puddle.

Peppino watched his clone slowly come together, but not as the tall and lanky, almost-passable person he usually was. Instead, as his dough was peeled off his palms like glue, Pep was only a few inches tall. This was not the first time Peppino had seen Pep change his size, but this was different. His legs remained as a puddle, and he looked more like a very soggy stuffed animal than a person, with a much larger head and eyes. The tiny Pep squeaked softly, holding his hands out and looking up to him. Peppino understood, and gently scooped him up, carrying him and sitting down on the couch with him in his hands. He could clasp his hands together and Pep would be completely covered… It was much easier to hide when you're so small. The idea sounded nice to him. Comforting almost. Peppino was brought out of his thoughts by another small squeak coming from his hands. Pep was looking up at him again, pointing to his head and miming a spiral coming from it. Fuck. What did Hazel say this meant again…? Pep mimed the gesture again, and then pointed to the window. Outside…? Oh…

"The sounds outside…?"

Pep nodded, and then mimed once more.

"Yeah, they are loud… But they-a should have stopped for now…" Peppino gave a small sigh, looking to the window. At least he hoped they stopped.

Pep held up his index finger and waved it for a moment. Peppino knew this one.

"They were fireworks. People shoot them into the sky and they explode in colours and-a lights."

Pep's brow furrowed for a moment, before holding up the same finger and touching his chest with the side of his hand. Peppino also knew this one - Pep liked to use it a lot.

"They use them when it's a celebration. I don't-a really get it… And I don't really like it either…" Peppino sighed again, a longer one this time. He was tired.

Despite the many questions popping into his head, Pep could taste green beans. He was quite tired too, instead deciding to nestle against Peppino's chest. He found that rhythmical thump-thump-thumping that he learnt about recently was soothing to him. Even if the noises - the 'fireworks' - came back, he imagined he would feel alright where he was.

Peppino couldn't help an amused huff as the tiny clone snuggled closer to him. Guess he wouldn't be making dinner just yet, so he leaned back into the cushions, keeping a hand around Pep as he dozed off.

"Night, Pep."

#I will not tag this as ooc but I do not have a writing tag jkfd #writing tag #there we go jkfdjkfvd #also the characters too I guess #pizza tower #fake peppino #peppino spaghetti #I need to organise all this better but later jkfdkj #I hope it is okay bc I am nervous about writing things!!! #also some notes while I am down here jhflksd #Pep's tastes for Peppino's emotions are: #raw onion and/or black pepper = anxious/fear #cilantro = regret #green beans = tired #and the signs Pep was doing: #pointing to head and miming a spiral = 'loud' #waving index finger = 'what?' #holding up index finger and touching his chest = 'why?' #now for content tags #war #implied war #guns #implied guns #self harm

[creativitytoexplore]

Stock futures fall to start week with key inflation data, earnings ahead

Stock futures fall to start week with key inflation data, earnings ahead

Stock futures were lower Monday morning as the markets come out of a tumultuous week and traders look ahead to key reports coming in the next week that can offer insights into the health of the economy. Futures connected to the Dow Jones Industrial Average slid 28 points. S&P 500 futures were lower by 0.18%, while Nasdaq 100 futures fell 0.30%. Market observers generally consider the week ahead…

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#Breaking News: Markets #business news #Citigroup Inc #Delta Air Lines Inc #Domino&x27;s Pizza Inc #Dow Jones Industrial Average #Economic events #JPMorgan Chase & Co #Levi Strauss & Co #Markets #Morgan Stanley #Nasdaq Inc #PepsiCo Inc. #S&P 500 Index #S&P Global Inc #Stock markets #U.S. 2 Year Treasury #United States #Wells Fargo & Co

[themslash]

i borrowed a large number of diabetic friendly cookbooks from the library today that i could stomach (so ones that arent older than ~5 years old, have photos, and dont go on a 100 page diatribe about the ravages of the "obesity epidemic") and even some of these have like. such sad photos its incredible. even on the covers its like the saddest prawn meal youve ever seen in your life

#vesselage #speaking of. time to make MY prawn meal #i was looking for books by hungarians that are relevant to my condition hoping they include local ingredients #but god so many of these are like. unreadable garbage #lose weight quick with the low glycemic index diet! what are you saying to me right now. #its such a pet peeve of mine when like... people voluntarily choose to follow the kind of diet im forced to do #like. you should be out there eating a whole pizza in one sitting #not doing the stupid shit i have to

[noisytenant]

forgot hlvrai 2 was happening today but it seems like theyre late to start? unless they meant EDT as opposed to EST

EDIT: people saying it's delayed 30min but im not sure where the source of this info is

#indexed post #i want to go get pizza buta its like... Hi...

[rainbowhao]

pervert ♡ haechan

genre: smut ⭒ word count: 0.7k ⭒ link to p2

donghyuck has a filthy mouth and even filthier mind.

“you like those, huh?” he had said to you one time. you were munching on the desserts like they were your last meal. “i can think of an even better ho—” he hadn’t gotten the chance to finish because you had hit him square in the face with a half-eaten donut hole. 

or when he and jisung had squeezed into your already crowded booth entirely uninvited. he’d magically ended up next to you, sticky fingers wandering to your knee. your eyes had immediately widened at the bold action. you even peered beneath the table to double check you hadn’t hallucinated.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you’d hissed in his ear, subtly yanking him closer by the bottom of his shirt. “are you serious right now?”

“sorry. my mistake,” was the best he had come up with. and yet his hand never left your leg. that is, until you pinched his skin and he was yelping so loud even chenle stopped talking.

and of course, he had even wormed his way into your apartment. you were convinced he had bribed jeno into letting him tag along just to find out where you lived—typical donghyuck behavior—but what you couldn’t believe was how easily swayed your friend was.

“nice place you got here.” hyuck nodded, lips pursed as he scanned the area. “where’s your bedroom, by the way?” it was all too predictable; you threw a pillow at his face and he blocked it.

despite the intrusion, you had an okay afternoon. there was pizza, games—anything you’d find at a typical hangout session—and the boy had done his very best to keep his inappropriate remarks to himself, promising to be nothing but a gentleman, and there was a part of you that almost believed him.

almost.

it was when the sun started to set and you grew tired of gaming that hyuck excused himself to use the bathroom. but what you didn’t know was that he really just wanted to snoop around. which leads him to where he is now, quietly sifting through your drawers and on full alert to any sign of movement outside.

hyuck’s mouth parts, tongue daring out to wet his lips when he finally finds what he’s looking for. he dangles the pair of underwear by his index finger. is he really this desperate? he purses his lips, foot anxiously tapping as he debates whether or not to go through with it.

you won’t notice if he takes just one pair, right?

and so he manages to smuggle them home and gets off late in the night, groaning your name as he strokes his hard shaft with his right hand. his fingers are coated in cum, as is the material he jerks himself into for the third time already. his mind is racing with every possible scenario he can think of. there’s no way he’s getting any sleep now—not when everytime he closes his eyes, there you are.

huyck's mouth is on your neck, his thigh pressing up against you in a way that has you dizzy. he’s littering your skin with marks, sucking and licking and leaving you craving his lips on yours. you murmur his name and his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing in response. your finger finds his chin to lead him to where you want him.

his lips are warm and tug on yours feverishly. it’s like your mouths are made for each other. when his tongue meets yours, your knees give out. with the majority of your weight on him, his hands easily guide you against his leg, encouraging your hips to move. 

“fuck,” he breathes out. his cheeks are flushed and hair damp. “wanna taste you.”

“aren’t you already doing that?” you say.

he smirks. “that’s not where i meant.”

hyuck whimpers at the sensitivity of yet another orgasm. his skin is wet and glistening, cock throbbing as he wipes up the substance with your underwear. there’s tears in his eyes and his cheeks are bright red—both because he’s so worked up and embarrassed about the entire thing. and yet he’s already reaching for his phone, sending jeno a text about the next time he’s going to your house.

you're right—he’s definitely a pervert.

a/n: I tried writing something a little different from my usual content so please lmk what you think!

#haechan #nct dream #nct #nct 127 #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct dream smut #haechan smut #lee donghyuck #nct fanfic #nct haechan #nct drabbles #nct hard hours #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #nct fic #haechan x reader

[flowerfan2]

Steve doesn’t notice there’s something else wrong until he gets his glasses.  The thing with his vision had been getting worse, and so he finally gave in to Robin’s nagging and went to an eye doctor.  And to the surprise of no one, the glasses help.

With his sight, that is.  But they also, strangely, show him something he hadn’t expected.  He’s having trouble hearing, too.

He can see clearly now that his friends act differently around him than they do each other.  When they want to get his attention, they stand right in front of him, and move in close.  If they are too far away, or off to the side, it’s sometimes as if they aren’t there at all, his hearing is so bad.  He can see them having conversations among themselves, heads thrown back in laughter and smiles pulling at their cheeks, but he can’t always make out what they’re saying.  

Steve’s at Eddie’s one night, relaxing on the couch with beer and pizza.  They’re supposed to be talking about who’s driving which kids to a dinner at the Byers’ tomorrow, and Eddie’s playing a new tape that Max gave him.  Steve should be happy, safe and comfortable, hanging out with his favorite person.  But Eddie’s bouncing around with excitement, pulling his hair over his mouth and jumping up to change the music, and Steve realizes he’s entirely lost.

“Could you just, maybe not-” he says, sharper than he meant, and Eddie turns to him, startled.

“Maybe not what, babe?”

Steve waves his hand towards the tape player.  “The music’s really loud.  It’s making it hard to…”

Eddie’s face falls, and Steve rushes to take it back.  “Sorry, no, the music’s fine-”

Eddie plops himself on the couch, sitting cross-legged and pulling at Steve until they’re facing each other.  When he speaks, it’s clear and his hair is firmly tucked behind his ears.  “Hey, no, don’t apologize.  It’s my fault, I should have realized.  I’m usually better at this.”

Eddie’s eyes are wide and understanding, and Steve has to look away for a long moment.  He knows.

Eddie touches his knee and waits until Steve looks back at him before he continues.  “We can get help for this too.  When you’re ready.  And, you know, there are other ways of communicating.”

“Ha ha,” Steve says dryly, thinking Eddie is flirting, but Eddie’s expression is too earnest for that.

“Okay, that too.  But also this.”  Eddie holds up his hand, rings and all, and forms his index finger and thumb into an L.  Then he lifts his pinky finger too, keeping his other fingers curled towards his palm, and directs it at Steve.

“What’s that?”

“It’s sign language for ‘I love you,’” Eddie says, picking up one of Steve’s hands and showing him how to do it.  “My mom taught it to me when I was little.  She said that way we could always talk to each other, even if we were far apart, like on the playground.”

“You know sign language?”

Eddie shakes his head.  “Not much, but I’ve been working on it lately.  I mean, I know plenty of words in fantasy languages, there’s no reason I can’t learn a real one.  Dustin and Robin are learning, too.  We just… didn’t know how to bring it up…”

Steve feels his eyes fill.  “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

Eddie gives Steve a pleased smile, then leans in for a kiss that soon turns into the kind of communication Steve thought Eddie was joking about earlier.  Later, lying in bed curled around each other, Eddie makes the “I love you” sign again, and Steve wants to kiss him forever.  

“Guess there’s an advantage to having a nerd for a boyfriend,” he whispers, and if he can feel more than hear Eddie’s laugh in response, at least he knows they’re in this together.

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #Stranger Things #Stranger Things fic #Steddie ficlet #Stranger Things ficlet

[beforeimdeceased]

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

absolutely ravenous — can’t keep her hands off of you even for a moment — ellie, looping her index fingers in the hooks of your jeans and pulling you as close as you can possibly get. feeling her pathetic labored breath on the nape of your neck while she nuzzles her nose into the warm skin. a ridiculous and stupid smile on her face, cockiness hiding her desperation while she whispers a soft “you want me so bad right now.”

which isn’t entirely wrong. need is the better word. her hands know all the right places to touch and all the right places to avoid so that you beg and whimper with anticipation. awaiting the moment she finally does touch you where you need her, and you feel as if you died and went to heaven.

but your homemade heart pizza is in the oven— fuck she smells so good. what is that woody scent? you have to think rationally but she’s insisting there’s nothing wrong with a little dessert before dinner.

you’ve given in, allowing her to take full control and ravage you on the counter top. her face is covered in you. her devotion to you is making your head spin. down on her knees worshiping and relishing in every bit of you. letting desire to get the best of her.

#bunnie can speak? ☆ #ellie williams #・❥・ bun’s sweet ellie #ellie williams x reader #bun’s asks ꕤ #bun’s anons ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #tlou au #tlou fanfic #ellie the last of us 2 #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #sapphic #wlw imagine #wlw fantasy #wlw writing #sapphic writing #lesbian fanfic #lesbian writer #— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

[satorusugurugurl]

Can i request modern au!sukuna and reader just making out in the living room during gojos house party🫠 established relationship of course🙏

I Got You

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x FAB Reader (MODERN AU)

Word Count: 1,983

Content Working: alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, anxiety attack, making out, suggestive

A/N: This request was so flipping cute! Loving this Modern!Sukuna AU! Like always send me suggestions!! I love hearing about your chaotic horny brain worms!

“Hello, welcome, welcome!” Gojo Satoru yelled over the bass booming from inside the house. “Step inside my humble abode!” You wanted to roll your eyes at ‘humble abode’ as you and Sukuna stepped inside Gojo’s mansion. “I am your gracious host, sober as per usual! Beer pong is in the back; spin the bottle has turned into strip poker, so that's been moved into the basement.” Your blue-eyed friend peered over his dark sunglasses. “There's pizza, edibles, and drinks in the kitchen! Have fun, don't fuck in my room again. Suguru and I are chilling in the hot tub if you need us!”

With the completion of his speech, your host was off towards the back, dodging several drunk people. Gojo’s house parties were always the best. Hell, it's where you met Sukuna. They were full of chaos, laughter, and lots of memories. Usually, you'd be dragging Sukuna to the kitchen by now and snacking on edibles, nursing a rum and coke.

But you were a bit anxious.

Work has been so tense this week. Endless piles of paperwork, long days. Every day was the same: get up, go to work, come home, and make dinner before passing out in bed. You’d been so stressed it didn't help that you hadn't even spent time with Sukuna all week. So when Gojo invited you for a small get-together, you jumped at the opportunity. A party with your closest friends would ease the tension in your back.

What you walked into was not at all a small get-together. This was a full-ass Gojo Satoru party. It had probably started as a small get-together, but word probably spread, and Gojo would never say no to a good time. The more the merrier! But as the smell of weed and shouting echoed through the house, you were beginning to regret your choice.

Sukuna peered down at you from the corner of his eye. He could see the stress etched into your features. He had offered to take you to dinner, something quiet and calm after your hard week. But when you said you needed to blow off some steam, he didn't fight you. He'd been there, raising his two brothers. Work and school had him running to parties like this all the time before he met you.

If this is what you needed, he'd support you.

“Hey,” he bent over next to your ear, “you good? Want to get a drink?”

“Mmhmm!”

Taking your hand in his, Sukuna led you through the crowded halls into the kitchen. You searched for Nanami, Shoko, or anyone you knew, but you saw a sea of strangers. This was fine. It was okay; Sukuna was here. You were going to be OK.

“Want a rum and coke?” Sukuna yelled over the blaring music. His hand released yours. “Or something else?”

In the instant he was no longer holding you, you felt it. Your hands were shaking, and your index finger twitched—the telltale signs of an anxiety attack for you. Quickly folding your hands behind your back, you swallowed hard, heart pounding in your ears. You needed to get away, to find a quiet spot, but the last thing you wanted to do was make Sukuna worry about you.

“Surprise me!” You yelled back, looking around. “I'm going to go use the restroom!”

Your boyfriend had just started towards the drinks when you shouted at him that you were going to the bathroom. When he turned around, he watched you push through the growing crowd, clenching your left hand as you did. Sighing softly, Sukuna headed for the fridge to get what was needed.

You were shaking, eyes darting through the smokey halls, searching for privacy. The bathroom was locked, couples blocked the stairs, and people flooded through the front door. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you needed to get away from the noise and calm down! You rushed down the hall, finding the living room empty, except for a beer bottle on the coffee table. This must have been where Spin the Bottle was being played earlier. Thank fuck it turned into strip poker.

Plopping down on the couch, you stared down at your shaking hands. The index finger and middle finger twitched, pulsing as waves of anxiety slammed into you. To fight back tears, you shut your eyes tight just as your leg began to bounce. This was a nasty attack. Calm, stay calm. It would be okay.

Why didn't you listen to your boyfriend?! From the second you got in the car, you felt off. Something was going to happen, but you had no clue what it could be like a shadow figure was stalking you, waiting for the perfect chance to strike. Now that you were in the midst of your anxiety attack, it all made sense.

“Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.” You whispered to yourself. “Don't cry.”

Despite telling yourself that, it didn't prevent the tears streaming down your cheeks. Fuck. This was not how you wanted to spend your Friday night. Poor Sukuna wouldn't want to spend the night like this, either. He was stuck taking care of his weak-ass girlfriend, who couldn't calm herself down. He deserved more. Before your thoughts could spiral further, the couch dipped under someone's weight.

Turning your head to see who it was, you gasped as Sukuna cupped your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. Your heart skipped a beat as you kissed back. He pulled back, thumb brushing against your cheek before his lips were firmly against yours once more. The second kiss was deeper as he gently eased you back into the corner of the armrest.

Whimpering against your boyfriend's lips, you lifted, still shaking hands to his shoulders. Your fingers trailed over muscles as his own hands moved down the curves of your body. Sukuna’s grip was firm, holding you tight and reassuring you that he was here. That you weren't alone.

Sukuna’s tongue darted out, gently licking at your bottom lip, begging for you to allow him inside. You obeyed simultaneously, opening your mouth. His tongue slid into your mouth, deepening the already passionate kiss. Furrowing your brows, you pulled him on top of you as you laid back. Obliging your wants, Sukuna followed you, his body pressed against you. In all of the movements, never once did he break the connection.

You hadn't had a drink of alcohol or eaten one of the edibles, but you felt hazy. All thanks to Sukuna’s tongue buried in your mouth. He massaged your tongue gently with his as his hands mapped out the dips and curves of your body. Making mental notes of all the places he touched that made you squirm. The second he got you home later, those spots he would pay extra attention to. He'd mark them up, suck on them until you were begging for more.

That would be for later on. Right at this moment, you were his sole concern. He paid close attention to your body and how the tension melted away. Trembling that was driven by anxiety shifted into trembles of pleasure. The kiss meant to ground you slowly twisted into a kiss the two of you found yourselves lost in.

Your hands ran through his soft hair, pulling him closer to you. Your tongue moved against his, gently prodding and massaging it, tasting the faint traces of mint and rum. God, you felt high, so high off of him. Off of the Ryomen Sukuna, the man you were so lucky to call your boyfriend. He left you breathless in every way, shape, and form.

Which is why you pushed him back, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you gulped down the air. While you recovered from the breathtaking kiss, Sukuna eyed you. His chest heaving as he sat back, giving you some space. Fuck, he looked good. His hair was in disarray, his shirt wrinkled around the collar, and his eyes dark with lust. The two of you were drunk off each other, and you had the urge to get wasted, to drown yourself in him and nothing else.

You sprung towards him, sitting in his lap as your lips found his. This kiss wasn't as gentle as the first (if you could call it gentle). You nipped at his lips, causing him to groan against your mouth, his eyes rolling back into his skull. His hands ran up and down your back, encouraging you to keep going. You cupped his face, kissing him like your life was on the line.

Sumina moaned as you made out like teenagers on the couch. His hands tangled in your hair, tugging Y/H/C strands as you sucked and bit at his bottom lip. Fuck, you felt like a teenager. It felt good to lose yourself in his kisses.

“Sukuna! Hey, I couldn't find my ice pack—oh!” you pulled away from Sukuna’s lips, panting heavily. Gojo was wet, towel around his waist as he held a bag of frozen peas. “Well, huh, I guess you have it covered?” Your white-haired friend asked, tossing Sukuna the peas.

Suluna caught the bag, glaring at Gojo with flushed cheeks. “Yes, now go!”

“Okay, okay! Just remember to wrap it up!”

“Fuck you, Gojo!” Sukuna yelled after him as he rushed off. “Stupid fuckin’ bastard.” Sukuna sighed, leaning his head back against the couch, his very hard erection pressing against you. “Ruining the mood.”

You cocked an eyebrow, eyes darting from your boyfriend to the peas, trying to put the two together. While your mind tried to connect the dots, Sukuna sighed. The sound rumbled in his chest as he picked up the bag, pressing it gently against the back of your neck.

The cold jolted down your spine, making you jump, your hips rutting against him. “Fuck! That's cold!” Sukuna hummed, eyes wandering over your face.

“Good means it's working.” Words trailed off before he looked away, flushing a deeper shade of red. “You feelin’ better?”

“Huh?”

“You were having an anxiety attack, right?”

You blinked at his words; he knew he had seen it. “How did you know?”

“Well, for starters, I’m your boyfriend.” His signature cocky smirk graced his lips. “Plus, you kept clenching your hand, taking super deep breaths, and I noticed your fingers twitching.” God, how embarrassing was this? You groaned, pressing your forehead against his. “Hey, it's okay, I got you. I would have been here sooner, but I couldn't find any ice packs.” his hand gently rubbed circles into your thigh. “So, I had to use my kissing skills to get you to hold your breath.”

“You do listen.” Holding your breath to stop a panic attack was something you and his brother Choso had talked about weeks ago over dinner. He had seemed bored, rolling his eyes as you both excitedly gushed over a paper he was writing for school.

“Of course, I listen.” His hand squeezed your thigh. “I've been listening to you since we played Seven Minutes in Heaven six months ago.”

“Seven Minutes in Heaven?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I think you mean an hour in heaven.”

Sukuna pulled the bag of peas away, shutting his eyes as he smiled. “An hour that changed my life completely.” His words had you biting your lip.

“Say Kuna~” you rocked against him, pleased to find him still hard. “What do you say we play that again? I want you to kiss me until I see the pearly gates.”

You didn't have to say it twice. The pea bag was thrown across the room, and frozen green peas rolled in every direction. You squealed as you were thrown over your boyfriend's shoulder, getting carried off to a more private location. You were squirming in excitement when his hand firmly smacked your ass.

“Oh no, look at that. Gojo left his door unlocked~!”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk reader smut #jjk men #jjk reader insert #jjk #reader x sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #sukuna au #jujutsu ryomen #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #x yn #jjk y/n #jjk drabbles #jjk au #reader jjk #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen

[snowy-vee]

Best cousin Ever

n/a: This one is short short, maybe I'll edit later a little bit

INDEX DON'T FORGET YOUR DAILY CLICK

You and Ellie were in the kitchen having pizza for dinner, all comfortable in matching pajamas. You two had been busy buying furniture for the house, so you did not upload any videos in your couple account just saving trends to do later on.

“There’s this cute trend, we could do it now” You say placing the phone in front of you two.

“What’s the sound?”

“You just have to give me a little kiss and that’s all”

“I can do that!” She said with her mouth full of pizza.

“Okay, 3, 2, 1…If you want her, you’re gonna have to get through me first” you turned around giving her a peck “She’s the best cousin ever”

Her happy smiles turns into and awkward one and she swallows hard, you can even hear the ‘gulp’, almost as if she was going to choke “Huh? What the fuck?”

You burst out laughing watching the shock in her face “Best cousin ever”

You repeat the phrase and try to give her another peck but she dodges it and shakes her head “You can’t kiss me and say that, baby, I’m just trying to eat my pizza!”

The recording stop and you two were laughing watching the video again, her expression was too funny, she murmured “worst trend ever” as she grabbed another piece of pizza.

“Your face- Hilarious!” you found it so funny that you were almost crying. “Ugh, I should’ve done this sooner”

Taglist;; @lovelyxbaby @deadbolted @mikellie @radioheadfan699

@elliessweetheart @desireesfics

#ellie the last of us #ellie smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie fanfic #lgbtq #wlw #snowy vee

[transvampireboyfriend]

"Tell me something you've never told anyone else before" Eddie requests, leaning across the counter to invade Steve's personal bubble.

Steve doesn't mind. He has to look down to meet Eddie's eyes, but he doesn't mind.

Eddie came in to rent a couple movies for the weekend and he's been loitering since he realized that the Family Video staff today is just Steve.

He went off to pick a movie 5 minutes ago and then he came back with a VHS tape and this request.

Steve feels confusion make itself evident on his face and Eddie's eyes moving up to look at the spot between his eyebrows confirm it.

"Wh-?"

"Unless you have something better to do?" Eddie challenges, his eyes looking around the empty store before finding Steve again.

His eyes that look like they're on fire under the afternoon light.

Your eyes are the prettiest thing I've ever seen.

"Something like what?" Steve asks.

"Anything!" Eddie smiles "Whatever you want"

Your hair smells like strawberries.

"Ummm" Steve says, trying to refocus. Eddie taps his fingers against the counter.

"Welcome to Pizza Hut?" Steve finally offers.

"Ha!"

It startles a laugh out of Eddie, makes him lean away and giggle and Steve can't help but smile at the sight.

I miss your laugh sometimes.

"That's good, Stevie!" Eddie praises, Steve tries very hard not to blush, but Eddie's eyes tell him he failed.

Eddie doesn't lean across the counter again and it makes Steve nervous.

"Is it your turn now?" Steve asks, trying not to feel embarrassed.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and gives him a look that says 'you tell me'.

"It's your turn now" Steve declares, leaning across the counter and mirroring their positions from just a few moments before.

"Tell me something you've never told anyone else before" Steve repeats.

Eddie puts on a show. He looks up at the ceiling, taps his index finger against his chin, purses his mouth, hums a little and taps his foot on the ground. Steve's smile becomes a full on grin.

When Eddie looks back down at him his expression softens.

"You surprise me." Eddie tells him, his voice a little deeper than usual in a tone Steve keeps forgetting he's capable of and as a result, the goosebumps on his skin always catch him off guard.

This time, his eyebrows shoot up too.

"Have you never been surprised?" Steve teases.

Eddie scoffs "Sure I have." he shrugs "Just never said it before."

"Hm" Steve concedes, and tilts his head in curiosity, Eddie's eyes follow his "Why do I surprise you?" Steve asks him "How do I surprise you?" he corrects.

"It's... you." Eddie says "You're not... Um. You're not who I thought you'd be"

Steve has a million questions.

But before he can even think to ask any, Eddie sniffs and straightens up, blinking fast.

"And that's another one," Eddie says, softly tapping the VHS tape in his hand against Steve's forearm "so. You owe me one now."

By the time Steve understands his meaning Eddie's already a few steps away, walking backwards.

Stay.

"Can I reuse my first? With another restaurant?" Steve tries.

Eddie scoffs, "Nah, come on" he says, still walking backwards, he bumps into a shelf and has to readjust his direction. Steve presses his lips together trying not to laugh.

"I'm gonna choose another movie so you have a couple minutes" Eddie says, and bows while still walking backwards.

Steve huffs a laugh.

How do you make everything exciting?

"Can it be a question?" Steve asks. Eddie stops walking.

"Hm. Yes" he decides, but stays still.

When you come back can I hold your hand?

"Alright." Steve finally agrees, "I'll think of one"

Eddie smiles, points at Steve with the tape still in his hand, rounds the corner and disappears behind another shelf of movies.

#steddie #steddie headcanon #steve x eddie #steveddie #stranger things #im sleeby gn #.

[yonphilia]

(S)CREAM.

( SUMMARY ) : you just wanted to give gojo a lesson for not inviting you to his halloween party, but why did that lead to you being fucked on his couch?

( WARNINGS ) : smut!!!! (heavy) ghostface! reader! (f) reader. dirty talk + degradation. pussing eating/fingering, cunninglus, gojo has big dick (duh), and just filthy stuff! modern au. college au. reader gets railed by gojo <3

( WK ) : 3.5k+ (i'm ovaluating)

( NOTES ) : proofread a lot! but probably have spelling mistakes :P, i thought of this while thinking of what to dress up as for a college party and drawing ghostface ^^

A doorbell rang, making loud echo noises all throughout the quiet house. It was Halloween night— but it was a bit too late for kids to be trick or treating. the door bell continuously kept ringing nearly every 3 seconds, which sounded as if someone was extremely desperate to get sweets or they just wanted everyone to know what they were doing.

“The party is over!” Gojo shouts from behind the door to lazy to open it.

Not until the bell rings again.

"Hmm..?" Gojo opened the door, only to find no one there, he squints his eyes scanning the place, a look of concern and confusion spread across his face— but soon fades knowing it was probably kids ding dong ditching.

Not shortly after he closes the door and was just about to sit down back on his couch, the doorbell starts to ring over and over again.

He lets out a groan before getting up and walking towards the door, his hand grabbing the doorknob and twisting it, opening the door in attempt to find the culprit.

“….what the hell?", Gojo spoke, his tone was frustrated as his eyes dart around to find no one there. Was this going to continue for the whole night? Did this person just want to annoy him?

He scoffs shutting the door again. Now he could just step onto the porch and look around to see who was bothering him at 1am, but Gojo was a lazy guy, he was not going to put on his slippers just for that.

The doorbell rang again and Gojo decides its best for him to just ignore it, he didn't respond, just stayed silent for a few seconds as he walked into the living room resuming his movie.

His head shook in disbelief when the doorbell rang again and again and again, but this time— there was a giggle, a giggle that got him slightly agitated and brows twitching, but he knew that the best course of action was to ignore it.

Still, the curiosity to know who was getting on his nerves, who kept on repeatedly abusing his poor doorbell, who wanted him to open the door so fucking bad, grew inside of him. It felt like the person was just right around the corner. Yet he chose to ignore it.

A couple of minutes pass, it was quiet now, the only sound was his TV playing some horror movie as he munched on his popcorn and some left over pizza from the party earlier.

He turned his head to look at the door and stayed still for a few seconds, before slowly getting up and walking towards it. He grabbed the doorknob, his head and eyes filled with nothing but curiosity. Could he at least just look? Just once? It’s not like some killer will jump out and kill him?

He slowly twists it open, peaking his head out, and he feels his heart skip a beat.

There stood you, dressed in a ghostface costume— in a tight dress with the mask covering your face, hand stretched out and index finger pointed just about to press the doorbell, but of course Gojo didn’t need to know it was you, he was too stupid, heck! he hadn’t even invited you to the long finished party.

“Who the fuck are you?” He said in an irritated tone opening the door fully and leaning against the frame, not until his gaze falls to the shiny metal coated with red in your hand, realising that was a big mistake, the knife looked a bit too realistic to be a costume.

He scans you up and down, wondering why you were dressed as ghostface? Of all the things, why choose a character from a random horror movie? Was this some kind of joke..? And why in a tight slutty dress?

Gojo then narrowed his eyes, analyzing the situation carefully and seeing exactly what was going on. It didn't seem hostile.

As you remained silent, he tried to ignore the knife in your hand from catching his eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“It’s Halloween isn’t it..? Well, your choice of outfit…” He trails off as his eyes drop to the dress hugging your body, “quite interesting to say the least..”

A huff escapes your mouth as your bring you hand back to your side. “You caught me i suppose” you mutter under your breath looking away even tho he couldn’t see your face, but oh you could see his— how his hair was messy, his grey sweats loosely hanging on his waist, his matching shirt unintentionally rolled up on the side indicating how much he got up from the sofa to check who was at his door, and his eyes that were constantly scanning you.

Gojo let out a small laugh at your reply. "So what's the reason that brought you here miss ghostface?" he spoke once again, slightly chuckling at his own question as he looked over at you.

You looked cute in your outfit according to him, and he wanted to compliment you about it, but something was holding him back. "Did you come here to annoy me? Or for the party? It finished an hour ago ya know?" he asked with a sly smirk on his face.

You kiss your teeth rolling your eyes at him, arms crossed as you glare at him through your mask. “I know that— i bet it was a stupid party anyways”

He stifled a laugh, despite not ‘knowing’ the pretty lady at his doorstep, he had a feeling he knew who it was, he wanted to tease her, and so he did exactly that. “Oh? I had no idea you wanted to come to my stupid party that bad” he replied with a smirk.

“I didn’t plan on coming anyways— not like you totally forgot to invite me or anything” You say bringing the knife up and pointing it at him, the knife was fake yes, but it was realistic enough to get a reaction out of him.

He takes a step back and his eyes go wide as he lets out a nervous laugh “Oookay okay, and do you mind telling me which one of the pretty girls you are that i so happen to forget to invite..?”

You feel tempted to take off your mask and show him your face, but you don’t, not yet. A smile forms on your face as you press the tip of the ‘knife’ lightly into his neck “let me in first.''

Why was he even hesitating? Your dress as exposing your body in all the right places making his mouth drool. His mind was screaming to invite you inside, and so he does.

''Well now that I look at you like this..I don't see a reason to why not?'' He says as his voice drops an octave and he steps out of the way letting you into his house.

You certainley do not hesitate to rush into his house, taking your heels off and plopping yourself down on his couch, causing your chest to bounce in the process. A huge blush starts to form on his cheeks the longer he stares at you, he could feel his cheeks and ears burning, were you teasing him? playing dumb? or were you really just that innocent?

''Do you want a drink?'' He asks as he leans over to the mini fridge beside a couch, and once you nod, he takes two cans of beer out.

Seeing you put your feet up on his coffee table causing your dress to sneak up your thighs, Gojo makes a mental note to get your number or anything after this. He hands you a can before he sits down beside you.

''So why were you trying to fry my doorbell?'' He pops open his can and takes a long sip of his drink causing it to trickle a little from the corner of his mouth. And that certainley caught your attention.

''Why didn't you invite me to your party?'' You retort back as you open your own drink and air it above your mouth.

''I still don't know who you are-'' He cuts himself off the moment he sees you air your drink, causing it to spill all the way down to your perfectly exposed clevenge and breasts.

He felt too distracted to answer your question, at how stunning you looked right now, at the position you were in on his couch, not caring about the fact he should get you some napkins to help you clean up.

''Well?'' you say as you lick your lips, playing dumb as if you couldn't feel the cold beer trickle down your chin and neck all the way to your exposed chest.

Gojo stayed silent for a few seconds, his eyes glued to the place where the beer stained your skin and dress, he wanted to look away but he was so mesmerised by now. He blinks and quickly looks back at your face, ''I-I don't know- I mean I kinda have no clue who you are but'' He lets out a breathy laugh, ''I definetly want to.''

You let out a laugh at that, setting your beer can down on the table and looking at your own beer stained chest. ''Whoops my bad-'' You turn your head towards him. He couldn't see your face which made him more aroused then he already felt.

''Won't you help me clean up…toru...?'' You whisper sitting up and leaning into him slightly.

Gojo couldn't help but let his eyes wander back to your chest, feeling his dick pulsing in his pants at just the sight of how hot you looked to him. He felt his heartbeat quicken as he finally managed to speak up.

''Y-Yes! Yes of course right away'' He says reacing over to grab a few napkins only to be stopped by your hand grabbing his wrist.

''No.'' You say immediately, ''I meant with these...'' Your other hand comes up to his face before your fingers ghost over his lips. He gulps, his blue eyes meet yours, trying to take in your beauty.

''C'mon don't be shy Satoru...I see the way you look at me in class'' You let go off his wrist and cup both of your breasts leaning into him further until your chest was pressed against his.

''I.....'' He felt like a complete pervert, gawking at your body infront of him, how was he holding himself back from burying his face in your tits right there and then?

''Clean me up-''

Before you could even finish your sentence, he dived straight in, his lips latching to your sticky stained skin, sucking and licking the beer off making him more and more aroused by the growing minute. His white lashes flutter shut at the feeling on your hands snaking up behind his head to tangle in his hair, your head tilting back as your feel his warm tongue lap at your breasts.

His tongue slid up and down trying his best to clean the drink off of you, earning soft whimpers and moans from you causing the bulge in his pants to ache and grow.

''S-Satoru-'' You whine out feeling him suck at your skin, he doesnt hesitate to tug your dress down around your chest.

''No bra huh?'' He mumbles as he smirks before putting your nipple in his mouth sucking on it as if he was a baby and your nipple was the pacifier, biting and tugging the flesh with his teeth until you were pulling at his hair.

Both your bodies were a hot mess, your face red and flushed from how hot you felt right now. You let out a loud whimper feeling him fondle with your breasts.

''F-Fuck! w-wait'' You breath out cupping his cheeks to pull him away, you tilt your mask to the side and lean in to attatch your lips with his swollen pouty ones.

Gojo instantly kisses you back grunting, His hands squeezing your breasts causing you to gasp and he slides his tongue into your mouth, swirling and exploring every inch of it. He kisses you harder and harder, teeth clashing and tongues dancing with each other, his hand goes up to cup your jaw, trying to mold his lips into yours until your mask bumps at his forehead.

''Take it off'' He pants out as he pulls away staring at you.

You let out a shaky breath hesitant at first, but then shake your head, your lips curving into a smirk. ''Lets see if you deserve to see my face hm?''

He groans throwing his head back from how aroused he was, feeling the tension in his abdomen build up.

You were sprawled out on his couch by now, your dress long gone, yet you still hadn't took off your mask, gojo insisted you should, at some point he even tried to take it off- but when he saw you were dead serious about wanting him to fuck you with the ghostface mask on, he felt like he could cum right there and then.

He stares at you hard. You're used the intensity of his gaze, but this is that special stare. That lusty one he gives you in class when you sit there all pretty with your mini skirts laughing along with the other students.

He's practically caging you on his couch hovering on top of you, leaning in and stopping right beside you ear.

"Do you know how fucking good you look right now? How badly I've wanted to fuck you?'' He says as his voice drips with lust. ''I know its you (name)- cuz-'' He lets out a shaky breath leaving a sloppy kiss right under your ear and the area around your neck. ''Can recognise that slutty body anywhere''

He holds his position, all up in your personal space as his fingers trail up your bare thigh. ''I know these pretty thighs all too well by the way you walk around me in school'' His hand inches upwards, fingers hooking around the band of your panties before pulling them and letting them go making them snap against your skin.

The sudden sting causes you to jolt and whimper, a pout forming on your glossy lips, your mask still tilted to the side only enough to reveal your lips.

Gojo smirks as he gets off of the couch, going down on his knees, his arms hooking around under your knees to pull you closer to the edge.

''Lets see if you can actually scream huh'' He mutters as he inches forward to your soaked panties, his breath fanning your silk covered fold earning little whines from you.

''S-satoru-ohh-'' Your words are cut off once he connected his puffy lips to your clothed pussy, sucking on the material and your folds as he groans sending vibrations up your core.

''T-take them off!'' You whimper, your hands going down to hold his hair and tugging on them slightly causing him to smirk. And so he does, in an instant he rips your panties off and without any warning, he connects his lips to your soaking folds, as if it was a magnet pulling satoru.

He sucks and licks at your folds, his tongue laying flat against your labia before he drags it up until it was pressed against your swollen clit, his eyes staring at your unholy expression through his white lashes, how beautiful you looked to him right now, lips parted slightly. He couldn't see your face but he knew your eyes must be closed from the pleasure.

Gojo was sloppy. He gently bites at your senstive bud before he starts to slurp at your juices, creating the most vile sounds known to mankind, suckling slupring licking until you were a moaning mess, gripping his hair and grinding your hips into him.

''O-Oh oh torruuuuu- fuckfuckfuckk g-gon make me cummmmm- ngh'' You cry out arching your back, nipples hard and thighs trembling vigorously, your legs wrap around his shoulders practically suffocating him with your thighs, but he doesn't mind it he has wanted this for way too long now, he was too pussy drunk to notice.

“Mmm..s’sweet mmm” He mumbles into your cunt sending vibrations up your core.

You're mweling as you feel a new sensation build up in your stomach once you feel his tongue enter you, his nose nudging against your clit. his tongue rolling inside you and your spongey spot that will lead you to your destruction, he knows you're close- and just when you're about to have an earth shattering orgasm, he pulls away with a cocky grin, lips glossy and puffy, cheeks and chin stained in your juices, eyes fully lust-blowen. If it was possible, Gojo would definitely have heart in his eyes right now.

You whine and buck your hips shifting closer to the edge of the couch, hands yanking his head back down into your core in attempt for any stimulation.

''You think I'll let you cum that easily after what you did huh?'' He stands up, veiny hands going down to discard his sweats. ''Sly cunt'' He mutters out, his eyes never leaving yours through your mask.

Once he was completly naked infront of you, your gaze drops down to his dick, the one you heard so many rumors about. He was big and he knew it, fucking bastard.

His tip was an angry red, already leaking with precum as it trailed down all the way to his base. He purses his lips staring at your leaking cunt as he runs his slender hand up and down his base smearing his precum, his eyes closing for a few seconds as his head tilts back revealing his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down by the thought of you squeezing his dick.

You part your lips to say something but he shoves his middle finger into your aching hole earning a loud moan from you. ''Ooh- fuck!'' You moan out arching your back, hand going to grip at his forearm.

''Hmm.. she seems ready, don’t ‘cha think pretty girl?'' He says grinning as he slowly takes his finger out admiring your slick, he brings it up to your mouth pressing it against your lips, you open your mouth and welcome his finger, sucking on it tasting yourself.

And just as you’re lost in sucking on his fingers like a lollipop, he's quick to start inching his pretty pink tip into your tight cunt, his gaze never leaving your pussy as he watches you take him in.

You gasp letting out muffled whimpers, eyes squeezing shut from the feeling, he wasn't even fully in yet and he stretcthed you out.

''Fuck- fuck you're tighttt woman'' He hissed out feeling you clamp down on him. ''L-lets actually make you scream huh? Ghostface wannabe'' He breathed out, removing his finger from your mouth, his thumb fidling with your aching clit as you melt against the couch.

He hadn't even fucked you yet and you were a shaking whining mess. Blabbing all sorts of stuff like ''So big- So full'' or just bunch of ''Fuck me fuck me fuck me''

And Gojo does. He shoves his hips forward, hands coming down to connect your ankles together as he lifts your legs- desperatley hugging them as he whimpers

''P-Pussy so so good- Lord- Fuck me hmphh'' He doesn't even give you time to adjust as he ruthlessly starts to slam into your poor cunt, your tongue lolls out as drool hands down your chin, your hands clutching onto the couch trying not to pass out from how good he stretched you out, his thick length hitting all the spots you didn't even know you had. Your mask barely hung on your face, tilted completly to the side only covering you eyes but revealing your flushed cheeks.

''T-Too much-- t's too much- gonna break my pussy'' You sob out, you could barely think straight anymore, all you wanted to do was to prank Satoru for not inviting you to his party- yet here you were folded on his couch as he uses your leaking cunt as a fleshlight.

His thursts were messy and sloppy, the only sound audible was your squelching hole, his whimpers and praises, and your dumbfound words.

''You gon make me cum babyyy'' He whines out as he leans forward, the back of your legs pressing against his chest, his hands holding your sides, tight enough to leave bruises on the skin. ''Squeezin me s'fuckin good- gon make me fucking cum'' He says pressing his forehead to your mask, his heavy breathing fanning your nose and lips.

''W-Wanna see that pretty face please pleaseeplease-'' He begs closing his eyes shut feeling you squeeze him so good. And once he hears no reply from you and only whines and moans, he takes it as a sign to remove your mask, and that was all he needed to loose the little sanity he had when he laid his eyes on you.

Your eyes rolled back, lashes wet, cheeks tear stained and drooling running down your lips and chin, that's all he had to see that had him spurting inside your gummy walls.

He pulls out of you and slams back in so fast that you don't even have time to procces your orgasm, your cunt squelching and gushing around him, hot liquid spraying everywhere all over his couch and abs. ''fuckfuckfuck fuck- a-ah g-gonna p-pass out'' You cry out, your legs were quivering- your brain absolutely numb, your nails digging into his biceps.

He doesn’t even care about the fact you just creamed on him, he only seemed to be lost in his pleasure, a thick white ring appearing around his base as he continues to tear into your senstive hole, his haw hanging loosely, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and neck slightly flushed red.

Not soon after, Gojo was painting your insides the same colour as his hair, breeding you over and over again until you were just a sobbing and babbling mess chanting his name over and over again- apologising over and over again.

And so was he- it would be hard to believe this was the same tough boy that got any girl he wants, right now he was just praising you and you cum stained leaking cunt repeatedly.

He pulls out of you panting, watching his thick load leak out of you as you squeeze around nothing, his fingers going down to smear his cum along your inner thighs and folds, being thankful for not inviting you to his party which ended in this.

You whine squirming away from him, body trembling and your breath hitching.

You both pant and heave trying to catch your breaths as he flops down beside you, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

''Guess you really are apart of scream huh?''

©yonphilia 2023

#gojo satoru x you #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #under 16 dni! #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #gojo #gojo x you #anime #smut #18+ blog #ghostface #s3x!!! #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you

[miraclewoozi]

FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE. -l.c

pair : dino x fem!reader. prompt : “say you want me, and i’m yours.” SMUT. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.  wc : 5k. heads up / smut tags : ex-boyfriend!chan. everyone’s down horrendous. drinking/some alcohol consumption prior to the fucking (they aren’t drunk tho). chan is able to lift reader and carry her a short distance. oral (f rec). backshots. unprotected p-in-v sex. reader has solid arch game. chan calls reader good girl/pretty girl/ baby. it’s all very needy. notes : i had idubilu chan on the brain for a big portion of writing. this was supposed to be a drabble and then ended up longer than some of my actual fics, so. bon appetite i guess?

There’s a list of places you think you’d be okay to run into one of your exes. 

In the grocery store, for starters. At the gym. In a bar, at your favourite pizza place, the library… None of them would exactly be fun, but one way or another, you believe that they would all be quite manageable. 

Further down are family events. While on a date with someone else. At the beach, or a swimming pool. A doctors office. Considerably more uncomfortable. Would probably warrant a large glass of wine as soon as you got home. You would live, though. No doubt about it. 

But at a wedding? Not only is it not on there, it’s quite high up on its own index.

The Crisis List. 

Yet this is the position in which you find yourself on this beautiful summer’s evening. You suppose it’s sort of what you get for letting yourself be set up with a friend of a friend while you were in college and mixing your social circles: this is some sort of twisted, universal revenge. But of all the places you’ve pictured running into Chan and succeeding to pace yourself through awkward small-talk before parting ways again… you never imagined that a celebration of eternal love would be the setting. 

You recognised the sound of his voice pretty much as soon as you arrived, but you were thankfully seated on opposite sides of the aisle during the ceremony itself. It was therefore pretty easy to keep your eyes off him and instead focus on what was going on at the front of the room. This wasn’t so simple when you only knew one other person at your table during the dinner service and Chan was seated barely ten feet away, and every time you glanced over to him, he was blowing bubbles and entertaining a group of young kids. Every time he laughed, or even every time he made one of them laugh, your head would snap over on instinct. Though you locked eyes with him a few times, mostly you were able to look away again before he had the chance to catch you.

Regardless, seeing that brilliant smile from across the room full of strangers made your stomach twist, so much so that you couldn’t even finish your dessert. 

Thus far, the day has passed without any real incident; dinner was three hours ago and you’ve managed to avoid him almost perfectly. You keep telling yourself that if you can just make it a little while longer, you’ll be able to go back upstairs and retire to your hotel room, and maybe even eventually, this will become another one of those memories you can laugh about with your friends. 

Just a little while longer.

In the meantime, a stool at the very end of the bar is your sanctuary and it has been for so long that your ass has started to go numb. With more people in attendance at the reception than there were at the ceremony and dinner portions of the day, you’re doing a pretty fantastic job keeping your distance from Chan. His friends, too. Everyone, if you’re being completely honest: with your back to the room at large, you could forgive anyone here for assuming that you peaked early, got wasted and just no longer have the legs to move from your perch. 

But the truth is that you’re still nursing the same flute of champagne you were given on your way in. Still drawing your fingertip round and around the rim of the same glass, wiping off the lipstick marks you leave with every tiny new sip. Still watching the same bubbles rise up and burst at the same surface. You’re about as sober as anyone on the planet has ever been. 

At least, almost certainly, you’re the most sober adult in the building. 

You know it’s not exactly fair to have removed yourself from the fun like this on the happiest day of your friends’ lives. You’re overjoyed for them, you really are, and you sort of wish you could just shake this off and go about your business, pretending he’s not here so that you could enjoy yourself properly. You’ve never claimed to be the life and soul of the party, but you know being so distant is a new look on you.

If only it was as easy as simply caring less.

But you’re surrounded by happy couples and faced with the man who is the definition of ‘right person, wrong time’. How can you possibly think about anything else?

Your spine tingles with the feeling of someone hovering behind you and you pick your glass up into your hand, ready to spin around and tell a concerned bride — for the fifth time — that you promise, you’re okay. To keep up the lie about the bellyache you’ve been pretending to have for an hour now just to get her to go back to her party. You square your shoulders and put a smile onto your face, but you don’t have the chance to turn around and put up a façade. The person — who is decidedly not who you were expecting — appears to your right instead, a solid frame in a black suit swallowing up your periphery. Your excuses fade away to static in your brain. 

“Is this seat taken?” Chan asks, fingertips brushing over the leather of the chair adjacent to you. “Are you… waiting for someone?”

You shake your head, taking a deep breath. There’s no running away now. “Nope. All yours.”

He swings one leg over the stool and settles into it, both hands resting up on the bar. He, too, twitches his fingers against his glass. He, too, fails to even glance at you. 

“Been a while, huh?” He says after a few seconds. Even though music continues playing behind you both, it’s nowhere near as loud as the thick, uncomfortable silence that had started to settle between you. 

A while is sort of a massive understatement. You haven’t seen him in… four? Five years? Not since you left college and he accepted the job offer of a lifetime, pulling him all the way to the other side of the country. Not since, despite your shared willingness to try, you realised that the whole long-distance thing didn’t work for either of you; not since you ended up calling time on your relationship after just four months of being apart. 

Ending things meant saying goodbye to amost two and a half years though, in total.

You’d you’d never been broken up with over a video call before. It fucking sucked.

“I didn’t know you were around,” you say instead of answering the obvious. “Are you just here for this, or…?”

Chan takes a long sip from his drink and finishes the glass, pushing it away from himself. He shakes his head, scrunching his nose a little. You were surprised not to see him with some sort of a whiskey in-hand, so his reaction to the chug makes sense: he was never that big into wines. Some things never change. 

“I got promoted. Came with a relocation,” he tells you. This time, he turns his head and looks at you properly, a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips. 

“Oh, shit. Congratulations,” you offer, tilting your now mostly empty glass in his direction before draining the little bit in the bottom, just like he did. You know it’s probably all in your own head that the fizz gives you a bit of a confidence boost, but you find the nerve to move to face him fully: you’ve never been one to turn your nose up at a positive coincidence, after all. “That’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head. “It’s… good to be back.”

A few seconds later, he tags on, “and it’s really good to see you.”

The bartender comes back to see if she can get you anything else to drink now you’ve finally finished your champagne and Chan puts his card down for a round of your choosing. It helps loosen up the tension in your shoulders, stops you bouncing your leg against the rest beneath your seat, makes it a little bit easier to settle into a back and forth with him. Eventually, the conversation starts to flow as if you were never really apart. 

You laugh at his bad jokes. Chan shoves you playfully when you make some back. He gets so invested in catching up on what’s been going on in your life that he doesn’t even tell you what the promotion he got is, nor where he’s been relocated to. 

As the following few hours tick by, he doesn’t leave your side. Even when people come over to talk to him, even when your friends’ eyes start to find you together and linger, as they attempt to read your lips, pick apart your body language, as they begin whispering behind their hands. He takes exactly one bathroom break, and he finds his way straight back to the chair he left. He even scoots it a little bit closer.

And the longer he stays glued to your left, the more you find yourself starting to hope a little harder that wherever he’s living now, it’s not too far away. That whatever him being ‘back’ means, something happens because of it.

Your something comes in the form of your companion trying to persuade you to get up and dance with him. He fails, numerous times; you have a whole arsenal of excuses, some of which are recycled and things that he heard a very long time ago, but others are new. He raises his eyebrows at a couple of them, though you don’t know if he’s just shocked at your attempts or actually impressed. None of them work on him though. You should have remembered that he wasn’t a quitter.

“My shoes hurt,” you tell him on attempt number five. “You go, I’ll stay here.”

Clearly, this line of defence isn’t good enough either. 

“Just one song,” Chan asks again as he stands up from his chair and picks up one of your wrists, this time. You look down at where he’s holding you, but he doesn’t. “Please? Just… for me?”

“When was the last time I did anything ‘just for you’?” You scoff incredulously, shaking your head. 

It doesn’t. His eyes soften and he takes a small step closer to you, those perfect lips of his pressing into a pout. 

He drops his fingers lower and squeezes your hand lightly. “Too long ago. I miss it.”

Something in his stare looks a little far away and you wonder what exactly it is that he’s thinking about. Is he remembering the times you would bring him his favourite snacks when he was sick, ice his injuries after gruelling dance practices, brush sleep out of his eyes early in the mornings when he stayed up too late and couldn’t get out of bed, but really needed to make it to his 8AM classes? Is he remembering when you’d put band-aids on his papercuts? Make sure his laptop was fully charged when he had long study days? Pick him and his friends up from the bars and let him lean all his weight against you as you dragged him into your apartment?

(Those needy nights where you’d let him call you the prettiest girl in the world as he snuggled into your side and nuzzled his cold nose against your warm cheek? When you’d let him tell you, without even rolling your eyes, that you were his everything, the reason he had any strength, the love of his life, the only person he’d ever need—)

He uses your distractedness to his full advantage; as soon as the muscles in your arm go slack, he pulls you again and this time succeeds in getting you to your feet. You stumble a few steps towards him and he ends up leading you all the way over to the dance floor, grinning proudly the entire time.

“One song,” you stress, hanging your head to try and conceal the fact that you’re definitely blushing hard.

“Just one,” he lies, glancing back at you. 

You know he's lying, too. High-flying job aside, he’s always been a dancer at heart: when he turns around to face you, there’s a glint in his eyes that says ‘one... or five.’ 

Confirming your suspicions, seven songs later, you’re still up there with him. You’ve stopped caring about your dumb shoes, or having too many sets of eyes on you, or whether anyone here is murmuring about it. How could you mind, when he keeps finding little ways to touch you again? When he’s singing his heart out, serenading you with corny 90’s love songs, hand on his heart and everything? 

How could you mind, when he so clearly doesn’t care?

And the thing is… no part of you thinks that this is a bad idea. It could never be a bad thing to let somebody make your heart race this way and your brain so fuzzy; just seeing him grin at you as he extends his hand out, waiting for you to take it, feels like being twenty one all over again. And when he spins you and spins you and spins you until you’re dizzy, falling over your own feet and staggering until you land against his solid chest, laughing… when he catches you in both arms, and darts his tongue out over his lips at the exact moment you look at his face… 

Perhaps your rare moment of unabashed bravery is spurred on by the way he drinks you up like an elixir. Perhaps it’s spurred on by the way he adjusts himself to hold you tighter against him, perhaps it’s spurred on by the fact that this right here is exactly what you feel like you’ve been missing. Whatever the reason, you hook a finger through one of the belt-loops on his pants and manage to find your voice long enough to speak.

“My room or yours?” You ask, quietly enough only for him to hear, loudly enough that he can’t mistake you.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, he brings his palm up between your shoulder blades. “Don’t care,” he says, ducking lower and brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Just… pick one. As soon as possible.”

A few people have already started to leave: couples with young families, older relatives who are getting tired, friends who have work in the morning, so you don’t feel too bad about slipping out into the corridor with Chan in tow as soon as you’ve grabbed your things. The elevator door closes behind you and you feel the mechanism start to pull you upwards, away from the hotel’s function room and towards the fourth floor to your own suite. Chan presses kiss after kiss to the back of your neck as soon as you’re alone, hands slipping around your waist and joining together just below your belly-button. 

“They have… cameras in these, you know,” you sigh, tilting your head to give him better access anyway. 

He chuckles quietly, nosing just behind your ear. “Okay?” He says, kissing you there too, bunching your dress in his hand and pulling it a little higher up your thigh. “So what?”

“So… fucking… public indecency,” you laugh, a little taken aback by his brazenness. 

It’s hard to be stern with him when he’s acting as if he never forgot how to press every single one of your buttons. Hell, as if he never stopped pushing them, in the first place. You lay one hand over both of his and squeeze gently, encouraging his teeth to keep grazing over the skin of your shoulder. You’ve never had any resolve when it comes to him. He clearly hasn’t forgotten.

Just as you’re relaxing into it, the elevator pings and you jolt away from him just in time for the door to open. The middle aged woman waiting to get in eyes you both as you rush out into the hallway and Chan grabs hold of your hand: you’re fairly sure she sucks her front teeth just before the door closes, but you don’t care. You’re too busy counting the rooms until you get to yours. 

409, 410, 411… 

“You look so fucking good right now,” Chan groans as you whip turn a corner and he quickens his pace to catch up, walking so fast he should probably be running instead. 

421, 422… 

“423,” you breathe, fumbling in your purse for the key-card. 

In a flash, you wave it over the sensor and pull down on the handle: before you have the chance to get dizzy from the speed of the turn, Chan has you pressed against the door from the inside. He doesn’t wait to be invited. He barely gives you the chance to catch your breath from your power-walk from the reception. Both his hands press into your hips when he brings his mouth down against yours, lips scorching hot, lifted up at the edges in a grin. Your knees go weak and you hold onto his biceps for stability, which… maybe, with how thick and sturdy they feel beneath your palms, isn’t a great way to help you calm down. 

When his tongue presses into your mouth and he tastes you for the first time in what feels like forever, you know the only thing keeping you standing is his strength. His hands, pinning you to the wood behind you. His body, pressing against you everywhere it possibly can. His muscular thigh, slotted between yours, giving you something to relax down against but also, to find a tiny little bit of friction from.

He dips down a little lower, looping his hands around you just below your ass, and with a quick movement he lifts you up off the floor completely. You hook your ankles together behind him, shifting to get higher up on his hips: when he steps away from the door, you drop your head down to his shoulder and a smirk replaces his prior very needy expression, feeling how warm you are at your core now your dress has hiked up around your waist. 

“Say you want me,” he says, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. He knows you do. 

“Huh?” 

Chan repeats, “say you want me.” 

You grasp harder at his hair and pull, but he doesn’t move away from your neck, just keeps kissing you at your sweet-spot until he’s walked a few paces to the middle of the room, holding you up over the hotel’s generously sized bed. 

“Say you want me, and I’m yours.”

He’s… yours?

It takes you a moment to process it but you don’t have to think twice about how you respond, even though your stomach flips at this very open-hearted confession. The entire way back up here, part of you expected this to be little more than a one-night-only special event, but…

“Shit,” you whine, feeling his fingers slip beneath the thin fabric of your underwear at your hip and tug. He pulls back from you at the sound of your voice, determined to look you in the eyes when you say it. 

Faces just inches apart, you admit, “I– I want you, Chan. Please. I want you so much.”

He bounces you up a little bit higher to get you to unhook your ankles and proceeds to basically drop you down onto the mattress, pushing both his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and reaching for his necktie. In a manner you can only describe as obscenely smooth, he grabs the knot and pulls, tugging it side to side to make it looser. The expensive silk comes undone easily. He balls it in his fist. You watch him toss his tie to the side, snap open a few more buttons, and with heavily lidded eyes, he plants one knee on the comforter, before crawling up the length of your body until you’re face-to-face again.

You take care of the remaining buttons on his shirt for him as he trails his lips all over your throat, your chest, your shoulders: even down your arms, to the crooks of your elbows, everywhere he can reach with your clothes still on. When his upper body is bare, he disregards the fact that you’re still wearing anything at all and kisses down your torso anyway. 

He lays between your thighs and presses his lips to them, too, pushing your dress up higher until it’s bunched up around your ribcage. One of his hands pushes your panties to the side and the other one reaches up to grab hold of yours, pulling it down to lace your fingers back into his hair. You do as he silently asks, and you swear his eyes roll back into his head at the first little pull. 

Chan always liked giving, but he loved it when you used him like a little toy, tugging and moving him around until you couldn’t handle him anymore.

Some things never change.

You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to do this. That you could take him now, if he wanted to hurry and get to it, because you’re already feeling yourself flutter at the thought of having him buried inside you. But his lips part and you feel the tip of his tongue drag through your folds, separating them, exposing you; he collects your arousal and swallows it back, pressing his tongue into your hole, swirling it around your clit, sending sparks up and down your spine.

That ridiculous, stupid idea dies magnificently. You let Chan lose himself in you, and in equal parts, you lose yourself in him. In the cold bite of the ring decorating his middle finger as he trails them down your sensitive skin, in the way he grunts and moans and praises you between your legs. You selfish– and selfless–ly let him have his way, right up until you feel so tense you could snap. 

Sure, you could let yourself come undone like this. Easily. In seconds, even, because he’s got you right there and you’re battling not to let it wash over you. But there’s something you need even more than the euphoria of your own release.

You scrunch your fist in his strands so hard that it forces him to pull away from you, gasping and cringing at the sting. At this, before he has the chance to ask what’s wrong, why you’ve stopped, if you’re okay, you press up onto one elbow, straps hanging off your shoulders, your own hair a mess. Somehow, Chan still looks up at you with glittering eyes, so shiny you can see their sweet, questioning gaze even in the dark. 

“Need you, now,” you tell him, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He wipes over his lips on the back of his hand and nods, pulling himself up onto his knees. You let go of him and tug your dress up over your head while he fiddles with the buckle on his belt. 

“Flip over,” he says huskily, tugging it free just as quickly as he did with his tie, and when it thunks to the floor, you hear him start to move his pants down his legs too. 

You do as he says, turning onto your front, bracing yourself on your knees with your hands clasped together beneath your head. Your back arches naturally for him, pressing your hips higher into the air; his breath catches at the sight of you, your perfect ass, your dribbling pussy. 

It’s his favourite view. Always has been. Shit, nothing since the last time he was with you has ever come close.

“Deep breath for me,” he says, so soft in comparison to the way his fingers on one hand grasp at your hip and you feel the blunt edges of his nails digging into your skin. You inhale through your mouth, loud enough for him to hear. “That’s it. My good girl.”

He’s so fucking hard when he finally drags his tip through your folds, so heavy and thick when he pushes inside you inch by inch. The stretch is more intense than you remember, and despite slowly letting the breath you sucked in leave your lungs, you feel all of your muscles go tense. Your eyes squeeze shut. Your torso goes tight. You know your cunt hugs him because of how he lets go of his length and lays his hand flat in the middle of your back, dragging his thumb back and forth, trying to soothe you through it.

“Easy,” he says to you, slowing but not stopping until he’s buried all the way inside you. He’s so deep, you swear he nudges something he shouldn’t. So far inside you that you don’t know what to do with yourself. “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

It’s a little difficult when you feel more full now than you ever have, but slowly, you manage to loosen up and it’s only when you give a small nod of your head and an 'mhm' that he starts to rock his hips back and forth. Shallow, to start with, but with the angle he slides into you at, he might as well be going full depth, full force, full speed with how feverish this already is. You bunch the comforter in your fist, letting those familiar sensations of being fucked by Chan take over, letting the discomfort subside until it's replaced only by pleasure.

By which point, he's stopped treating you like a fragile doll, and has started to handle you like the person he wishes he never lost.

Those dancer hips haven't gone to waste, you realise, as he snaps them fluidly into you, the harsh slap of skin-on-skin punctuating every single sound that escapes you both. Sometimes, he pulls you back, spearing you wholly on his length, letting you do some of the work and control the pace. Sometimes, he holds you completely still so that he can have it all.

At all times, you feel yourself losing your mind piece by piece. Though you've tried to be with other people since that horrendous breakup, it's never managed to stick, and you find yourself thinking that maybe in a way, you were waiting for him. Hoping that one day, he'd waltz his way back into your life and sweep you off your feet and make sure you never forgot just how well he can give it to you. Praying that the universe was going to give you another chance.

One of his hands slips around your waist, now, and you feel him come down lower, pressing his chest against your back. His thrusts stop being so long and instead, he settles for harsh, deep ruts. His fingers find and start strumming over your clit, and you can feel yourself start to break apart with gasps and choked moans and whines of his name.

You're done for, and he knows it, but he still teases you as he kisses up your spine.

"Wanna feel you come, pretty girl," he says. His fingers move so easily that it takes everything you have not to collapse beneath him. “Missed feeling this pretty pussy around me. Wasn’t the same watching you play with it on the phone.”

You hide your face in the comforter and gasp, that beautiful heat starting to rise up inside you again. “Fuck, Chan—”

“That’s it,” he guides you, grunting with every little spasm of your walls. “Missed you so much.”

“I missed— missed—” you try to say, but he finds just the right pattern to make you squeak and you tug harder at the sheets. “Oh my God—”

Your universe explodes as he hits just the right spot inside you and you feel your peak slam through you, hips jerking back to meet his until there’s no room for any air to pass between your bodies. Chan stills, letting you ride yourself through it, easing up a little with the pressure of his fingers but still keeping them moving to milk every ounce of pleasure that he can from you.

With your thighs still shaking, you buckle downwards and he slips out of you unintentionally as you fight to catch your breath. You’re still seeing spots, still trying to put your thoughts in the right order, but when he smooths his hands over your ass and down the backs of your thighs, still up on his knees behind you, you slowly start to come back to Earth.

You slowly move round to lie on your back so you can look up at him, his still hard, now soaked cock sitting heavily against his thigh. He settles his hands on your knees, and you lean over to the side to pass your finger over one of the light switches. The one behind the headboard flickers to life and illuminates him: a sheen of sweat makes his broad frame gleam, his rosy blush makes your chest stutter.

“I missed you too,” you say quietly, unsure now if he was just saying so in the heat of the moment or if it was the truth.

You never needed to worry, though. Not if the way he drops down onto one elbow and kisses your newly regained breath straight back out of your lungs, cupping your cheek with his other hand is anything to go by.

“You meant it, then? You really want me?” He asks, pulling away only to drag his thumb over the corner of your mouth. You nod, turning your head a little and pursing your lips forward, pressing a kiss to his skin.

“I never stopped,” you tell him.

Little celebratory fireworks start to dance in his pretty eyes.

“Yeah?” He breathes, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him. “Good. Neither did I.”

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3 thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3

#lee chan smut #dino smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #dino x you #dino x reader #dino imagines #j writes. #mw500party! #*

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (sneak peak)

In which Harry's a dick and y/n is a virgin who cries a lot.

+++

“Harry!” Maddie calls out, making her way to the other side of the apartment. “Hey, Harry!” 

He’s sitting on a couch, next to a pretty girl in a tight black dress who has her legs splayed across his lap comfortably. There’s a furrow in his brow that makes him look pissed off, but his hand rests very comfortably on this girl's thigh and he makes no objections as she plays with the collar of his shirt. His head whips over to Maddie as she tramples her way over to him.

“What is it?” he snaps, voice closed off and irritated. 

“Can you drive y/n home?” 

He blinks. “Huh?” 

“Can you drive y/n home??” she says again, frustrated.

“Why?” 

“Cause I’m going over to your apartment with Blake and she needs a ride home.” 

He stares at Maddie unbelievingly, and peers over at y/n, who’s sitting all alone on the other side of the apartment. Her lips are pouted sadly, staring down at the floor with a far off look in her eyes. 

“Why can’t you take her home?” he grumbles, looking up at Maddie with a glare in his eye.

She huffs, impatiently stomping her foot. “Cause I’m going home with Blake right now! Come on Harry, it’s not that far! Please?” 

He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ unbelieveable,” he mutters under his breath, pushing the girl off of him as he stands up. 

“Thank you,” she sighs, dragging him behind her. “Y/n,” Maddie says, stopping in front of her. “Harry’s gonna drive you home.” 

She looks up, eyes wide and round. “H-Harry?”

“Yes,” she says harshly, “you guys are friends, aren’t you?”

“Um…” y/n doesn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends just because they shared a pizza. 

Her night out with Maddie was meant to be fun, but right now, she just feels abandoned and kinda scared. And Harry doesn’t seem too happy about this either, which makes her feel even worse.

“Lets go,” he snaps, jaw clenching tightly as he swings his car keys around his index finger. She flinches at his tone and digs her nails into her palms nervously. 

She’s trapped. It’s either Harry takes her home, or she takes an uber all by herself. And she’s too scared to get home alone right now. 

With a final look towards Maddie, who stares back at her dismissively and shoos her towards Harry, she stands up shakily and follows Harry out of the crowded apartment. 

The air outside is much colder than the apartment, goosebumps immediately rising on y/n’s skin and making her shiver. Harry doesn’t acknowledge the way she stumbles over her feet, walking ahead of her briskly. She’s forced to keep herself composed, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm and nearly jogging to keep up with Harry’s long strides. 

He unlocks his car doors and gets into the driver’s seat. Y/n opens the passenger’s side door for herself and takes a seat, buckling herself in quietly.

Turning on the car, he notices the way her arms are tightly crossed in front of her chest. He turns up the heat, and pulls out of the parking lot. 

They play no music and say nothing, driving in silence.

“Sorry you have to drive me home,” she says faintly after a few minutes. 

His turn signal blinks softly. “Can’t believe your roommate just left you,” he mutters irritatedly. 

She says nothing in response. She stares out the window, a lump growing in her throat as they drive past the streets of college houses and apartments. The red light and the name of the streets go blurry from the tears gathering at her waterline. She sniffles softly.

Harry whips his head to her. “Why are you crying?”

Her lower lip wobbles as the first tear falls from her lashes. She wipes it away quickly. “I don’t know,” is all she says with a watery voice.

+++

COMING THIS SATURDAY 07/22! :) theee long awaited grumpyrry x sunshine virgin fic!!! :) PART 1 AND 2 ARE ALREADY UP ON MY PATREONNNN!!! :) THIS IS NOT A PATREON EXCLUSIVE MEANING ALL OF IT WILL BE POSTED ON TUMBLR, PATREON JUST HAS EARLY ACCESS!!!!! CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST FOR OTHER FICS HOPE U GUYS R EXCITED XOXO

#harry #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #mean harry #grumpy harry #grumpyrry #my writing

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Picture Perfect - Smallville!Clark Kent x Reader

A/N: Inspired by the song Picture Perfect by Angela Via. pairing: Smallville!Clark Kent x f! reader warnings/content: fluff, mutual pining, one singular swear word. word count: 2.2k

I should be yours, baby, you should be mine. Meant to be, can’t you see? We’re picture perfect”

Clark watched as you chewed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly as you glanced over the notes in your binder, written in your vibrantly feminine script, large and looping letters forming your thoughts on the page, written in your favourite pink gel pen, as you always did. He couldn’t help but smirk at how even your notes looked like they were transcribed by Barbie herself, but as silly as the thought of media law scrawled out in pink glittering ink in your flourished handwriting was, he loved that about you. He loved that your bubblingly bright personality had its way of working itself into every aspect of your life, including your studying methods. 

His piercing Kryptonian blue eyes continued to stare over at you, fixated on the way your hand gracefully glided across the page as you wrote, your fingers curled just so around your pen. He was fascinated by the way you could make even the most simple of tasks, like holding a pen, appear elegant. He knew he had it bad for you, he had for as long as he could remember, since you met. His friends would often tease him about diving in head first when he fell in love, and he tried to work on it in an effort to protect himself from getting hurt, but with you, he knew it was useless. He may not have had many weaknesses, but you were one of the few things that could stop him dead in his tracks. 

“Clark? You ok?” 

You had looked up from your notes to see Clark seemingly staring off into space at you, unable to break his focus from his thoughts. He chuckled nervously before pointing at his open text book on the table and nodding his head. 

“Yeah, I’m fine!” He said, trying to sound confident and hide his embarrassment as she caught him staring.

You tossed your textbook closed and shoved it across the table in front of you with a tired laugh. Straightening your ponytail, you let out an exasperated sigh before rubbing your hand inbetween your thumb and index finger.

“I’m starving, and my hand is cramped up, ready to go grab something to eat? I think if I have to read anymore of this I might implode,” you laughed, shaking your head as you stood up from your seat.

“Yeah, yeah I could go for something to eat. Pizza?” Clark laughed softly, raising an eyebrow as he followed behind you. 

He tried to keep his gaze upwards, focusing on anything but your backside as you walked in front of him out of the library. He had to congratulate himself on his willpower - resisting the urge for his eyes to drift downwards, tracing the shape of your curves as you walked. He caught up beside you, chuckling as he pretended to jog up beside you. If anything, it was harder work to pretend he couldn’t keep up with your strides than it was to actually jog, he could run from Kansas to California in a matter of seconds. In fact, he’d often thought about doing just that. He’d worked so hard to keep his secret from everyone, including you, as much as he hated hiding things from you. He loved you, and he trusted you, but he was terrified of how you’d respond. Would you be afraid of him? Would you stop speaking to him? Would you think he was crazy and tell everyone he’d gone insane? The more he’d thought about telling you, the more he realized he’d rather continue the facade he’d created than have any chance of losing you. Having you in his life and not knowing the truth about him was better than telling you and not having you there at all. 

“Clark, are you sure you’re ok? You keep spacing out on me.” 

Your laughter rang out through Clark’s ears - he could easily list it in his top favorite sounds, second only to the way his name sound when it fell from your lips, making it sound like an answered prayer every time you said it. Clark had it bad for you, and he knew that if he continued to hold it in, it’d end up forcing you away, but he’d been through this before with friends, and it rarely ended in his favor. The last thing he wanted was to push you away, either due to him revealing his true feelings, revealing his secret or by continuing to ignore how he felt for you. His own happiness aside, he knew ignoring his long-standing feelings towards you was the easiest solution. He ran a hand through his thick dark hair for a moment and chuckled awkwardly, his piercingly bright blue eyes glancing over at you as he spoke.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just thinking,” He said, trying his best to be reassuring but he couldn’t help but think he was failing miserably at it. 

“Oh, that’s what that smell is?” You teased, giving Clark a playful shove of the shoulder as you spoke. 

Clark rolled his eyes and gave you one of his infamous smirks, the kind that had most girls you knew weak in the knees. Clark had often been told he had a nice smile, but he was also oblivious when women found him attractive. Half of the time he had no idea when someone was flirting with him, and the other half of the time, he didn’t know how to respond to or reciprocate the flirting. The best he could do was flash a sweet, charming smile someone’s way and be his usual kind-hearted self, which was how he liked it best. He hated the idea of having to work for someone’s attention. With you, however, he found himself wanting to try. He wanted to flirt with you, he just had no idea where to begin.

He held the door to the pizza place on campus open for you, giving you another one of his warm, heart-melting smiles as he gestured for you to enter first with the motion of one of his long, muscular arms, the sleeve of his navy blue sweater shifting up on his wrist slightly as he moved, the arms just a little short for his frame. At six-foot-four and the majority of his height in his legs, Clark’s clothes were often just that half inch too short, often masked by pushing his sleeves up or by the shoes he wore. 

Little did Clark know, while he was busy admiring your every feature, you were doing the same to him - the way his blue eyes would light up and shine when he smiled was enough to make you swoon. The way he always acted like a total gentleman around you, holding doors, pulling out your chair, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, it was enough to make your heart flutter and race each time. The way he’d talk about his mom’s homemade pies back on his family farm in Smallville, the way he’d sing her praises and humbly brag about how her baking was famous across their little town. He’d always jokingly offer to bring you a slice the next time he went home to visit her, teasing you that despite the fact it wouldn’t be at its freshest, it’d still be the best slice of pie you’d ever eaten. You loved all these things about him, as well as the way he cared for everyone - he was always doing whatever he could to be a good person, which was a rarity a lot of the time on campus at Metropolis University, but you treasured his difference from the other men on campus. 

To anyone else who saw the two of you sitting together in the pizza parlour that day, they would have sworn you were on a date - the longing, loving stares at each other, exchanged stolen glances and sweet smiles, blushing red cheeks and nervous laughter - all the signs of a budding romance sparking between two young lovers. To the two of you though, it was one-sided, guarded feelings - scared to make the first move, scared to let feelings become known, anxious about how the other might respond, worried about whether or not your feelings might be showing through too much to the other party. You and Clark occasionally got comments about how sweet of a couple the two of you made from passersby, usually elderly women who’d say it as they passed through, commenting how it reminded them of how they were years ago when they first met their husbands, giving you a wink about how Clark was a keeper, or telling Clark to continue being the gentleman he is. The comments were always met with blushing cheeks from both of you, an awkward chuckle and thank you from Clark and a polite smile from you, but unbeknownst to the both of you, you and Clark both secretly felt your hearts flutter in agreeance to the compliment, hoping the other would agree too. 

Clark finished his pizza, pushing his plate away from his body on the table slightly, letting out a satisfied sigh as he reached for his glass of soda, bringing it up to his lips to take a sip. He peered over the glass at you, stealing a glance as you blushed to yourself, biting your bottom lip for a second, appearing deep in thought as you sat across from him. Clark wrestled with whether or not he should finally bite the bullet and tell you how he felt. After a few moments of his own deep concentration, he decided tonight was as good a night as ever to finally talk to you about his feelings and find out where he stood with you. He set his glass down, clearly appearing uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat. You tried not to notice his discomfort as you finished eating, and the two of you left to head back to the dorm building in silence. When you reached the front steps of the building, having had enough of the piercing silence and avoiding eye contact that had taken place the whole walk home. 

“Listen, I need to talk to you,” Clark said as he shifted the weight of his backpack on his shoulder awkwardly, looking around at the sky, trying to focus his eyesight on anything but your face as he spoke in an effort to avoid the awkwardness that he felt would inevitably come with what he was about to confess to you. 

“About what?” You raised an eyebrow as you took in a sharp inhale of air, holding your breath as you hoped he wouldn’t be saying how he met someone or how he thought the two of you could use some space.

“I think you and I should…discuss our relationship, going forward,” Clark shook his head as he chuckled awkwardly and held his hands up for a moment in surrender, “That sounded better in my head, let me try again?”

“I really like you,” Clark finally sighed with a nod of his head, “I’m not good at this, I know I never say the right things, and I know everyone tells me I’m blind to stuff like this, but I really like you. All of you. Everything there is to love about you.”

Clark looked at your bewildered expression, unsure of what to say, but fearing in that moment that he’d just fucked up the only thing he knew he wanted to cling to in life, the one thing that helped him retain some sense of normalcy, some sense of humanity in life while he was living away from Smallville. After a moment of awkward silence had passed, a strained, awkward sounding laugh fell from his lips, almost out of desperation to fill the void that was lingering between you both now.

“I like you too. All of you. And, I know you’re…different, Clark, I don’t know what it is, or how to explain it, but I know you’re not like most people. And I don’t care. I like you anyways,” You finally said, nodding your head in confirmation of your words as you spoke.

Clark breathed out a heavy sigh and laughed, shaking his head, his thick, dark hair tousling slightly as he did so. His deep blue eyes looked at you again, sparkling and glistening as they always did when he smiled. He put a hand on your cheek gently, leaning in to give you a tender kiss. He’d kissed you on the cheek before in a friendly, affectionate kind of way, but this, this was different. This was a soft, tender kiss, full of passion and love for you, as if you were the only woman in the world. In a way, in Clark’s mind, you were, at least in this moment.  “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say that, you know,” Clark murmured as he pulled away from your lips, smiling softly as he rested his forehead on yours, “As for the different thing…we’ll get to that.”

#smallville! clark kent x reader #clark kent x reader #smallville clark kent x reader #smallville clark kent #clark kent fanfiction #clark kent fic #smallville fanfiction #smallville fanfic #smallville! clark kent x you #clark kent x you #smallville clark kent x you

[madman479r]

Knight Light

*Earth* *Pizza place*

*Jessica, (Green Lantern) Diana (Wonder Woman), Dinah (Black Canary) and Mari (Vixen) having a girl's night out.*

Jessica:... and he's such a gentleman, he's kind, considerate, loving and just... *sighs lovingly* perfect.

Mari: Damn, you are love struck.

Karen Starr (power girl) : **appears because she was late** Who's love struck?

Dinah: Jess.

Karen: Really, you found a guy? Congrats. What's his name?

Jessica: Jaune Arc.

Karen: Jaune Arc, Huh? Short, sweet, rolls of the tongue. Where's he from?

Jessica: Another dimension.

Karen:... So am I gonna have to be the bitch here or was this Girls night out actually an intervention?

Diana: What do you mean?

Karen: *sighs* Alright, guess it's option 1 then. Jess, sweetie, I get sometimes ladies, especially hot ones such as yourself, get embarrassed by not having a guy but you don't need to pull the "he goes to another school" or dimension in this case, with us.

Mari: No, but like he's literally from another dimension.

Dinah: Besides, aren't you from another reality as well? How is it so far fetched?

Karen: Okay, mind showing a pic of the guy?

Jessica: Sure. **Shows volume 1-3 Jaune**

Karen: Hmmm. I mean I guess he's cute, not exactly my type, unless I wanted a one night stand but I say you could do better.

Jessica: **swipes to show volume 8 Jaune.**

Karen: Okay, well he certainly had a glow up. He looks more confident and that body is definitely a plus but I still say-

Jessica: **Swipes to show volume 9 Jaune**

Karen:...Would you be opposed to a threesome?

**Laughter from all girls**

Mari: But I think we need to ask the most important, emotional question.

Dinah: That's right. I've heard of long distance relationships but this is pushing it.

Diana: My thoughts as well. Neither of you would be willing to leave your own dimensions so... how... would... *notices what Mari is doing*

Mari: *puts her index fingers together and slowly starts to pull them away, looking Jessica in the eyes.*

Jessica: *smiling smugly*

Mari: *Continues to widen the gap between her fingers*  Oh? Okay. *Gap is now 7 inches wide* Nice. *8 inches* ain't no way. *9 inches* no, no! Really?!

Jessica: *Still smiling, not saying anything*

Dinah: I'm actually getting worried for her now.

Mari: *Reaches 12 inches*

Jessica: *Nods*

Mari: Holy shit.

Diana: Talk about blessed by the Gods.

Dinah: She's gotta be lying.

Karen: I can see her heart rate and pupils, holy shit she isn't lying.

Jessica: And you wanna know the best thing? His ability lets him charge himself back to full, so he can go for hours.

#rwby #jaune arc #jessica cruz #green lantern #knight light #rwby knight light #rwby x dc

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: https://www.instagram.com/twalxxart/ Twalxx

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. There has been an emergency and you have been called into the line of fire. You have been injured by the Black Mask, how will Jason react?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, mentions of gunshots and death

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part 9: If I Have to Throw You Over My Shoulder I Will

***********************************************************

Jason Todd

[Jason, please we need backup. We need you.] Dick had sent about ten minutes ago. 

Some dark part of me wanted to do nothing. The part of me that was tortured and beaten. The part of me that was angry no one cared enough to avenge me. But I loved Dick like he was my flesh and blood. And whether I admit it to myself or not… I love Bruce the same way.

Often I think about how my life led me down this way. Was it fate? Was it God? Was it just dumb fucking luck? 

There is one theory I keep circling back to. The Red String Theory. At birth, we have invisible red strings tying us to the people we are destined to meet. Was I tied to my parents? Bruce? Alfred? Dick? Tim? Barbara? Steph? Cass? Damian? Duke? Or even… him? 

That’s too many. If that’s true, my fate lines look more like a messy evidence board. Or maybe a fucked up marionette puppet. Like I was made to be influenced by those tied to me. Pushed and pulled. Just a vessel of violence. 

But the Red String Theory couldn’t be true. At least not for me. I’m so covered in red. You can’t pull a red thread out of a sea of blood.

My morbid thoughts halted when I saw Pizza Joe’s. I parked off to the side. In an alley, no one could see. I approached the gunshots, listening for Dick. Boy Wonder was nowhere to be seen, but I made mental notes of the men that were perched on the buildings. 

I made my way discreetly around the building, toward the back. My heart stopped dead in my chest.

Y/n was pinned against the wall. With a gun in her mouth. Fighting with everything in her against the Black Mask.

Something in me snapped. Without hesitation I shot twice at his arm, severing the flexor digitorum profundus and rendering his index and middle finger useless. I shot through his stupid fucking masked head. I shot through his heart. I shot through the bastard's fucking dick. I shot. And I shot. And I shot. No one hurts her. Ever.

I barely noticed Bruce as I stepped over him. I could have checked his pulse, his status, anything. But all I cared about was getting to her. 

Anger and fear surged inside me, at the sight of seeing her covered in blood. I started to panic. My chest felt like one thousand pounds of pressure was crushing me. All I could do to calm myself down was to pull her into my arms and hug her tight enough that I felt her heartbeat against mine. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

I had stayed away from her this past week. Trying to keep her safe from whatever bullshit I would bring her. But here she was finding the danger all on her own. Without me to make sure she was safe.

Seeing her face, feeling her against my body, lit something up inside me. Anger surged.

“Why the fuck are you here?” I growled.

***********************************************************

Jason grabbed my chin, slowly moving it from side to side, inspecting my blood-spattered face. His mouth was moving but all I could hear was the damn ringing in my skull. Jason frowned and looked at both my ears. I felt a warmth run down the left side of my neck. 

Jason leaned into my right side, his cold helmet brushed against the shell of my ear making me shiver. “You’re hurt.” The words were simple. But they were laced with bitterness and anger that went beyond reason.

I looked up at his Red Hood, “Dick needs your help.” I couldn’t tell if I was screaming the words or saying them at a reasonable volume. I couldn’t gauge Jason’s reaction either which annoyed me. I wanted to rip that helmet off and see his face. 

“I’m looking at someone that needs my full attention right now. Grayson can handle himself,” he snarled the words at me. 

Gunshots sounded loud enough for me to hear. My brain started spiraling into the worst-case scenario. A Dick Grayson riddled with bullets involuntarily entered my mind. “Please help him. Please, Jason.” I grabbed his arm as I begged. His bicep tensed under my grip. 

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he ground out. “Get behind me.” Despite his harsh tone, he gently moved me behind him. His broad shoulders and generous height covered me completely. I kept a hand at the base of his hip. Ready to heal him if needed. 

There were four shooters surrounding Dick, and three on the buildings, all pointing their guns at him. Jason opened a pocket on his thigh and reloaded his right gun one-handed. He was so smooth with the movement it was like he was doing something simple like buttering toast. He was dexterous at a level I can only describe as masterful. 

Jason aimed at an impossible speed and precision. Seven shots rang out. Seven men fell. I don’t even think they realized Jason was enemy fire until they already had a bullet fly through them. It was seemingly impossible. 

Jason didn’t give me a chance to assess Dick or Bruce before throwing me over his shoulder and walking away.

“I need to help them! Jason! Jason, listen to me!” I yelled and slapped the back of his leather jacket. He ignored me or I didn’t hear his response. Knowing him, most likely the former.

Suddenly, he moved me off his shoulder and straddled me onto his motorcycle. My mind was acutely aware of his large hands pinning my waist down.

“Grayson is fine. He will take care of Bruce and your car. I’m taking you home. Now.” He was leaning toward my good ear again, his voice was dark and commanding. Lighting a certain part of me on fire. Who am I kidding, my whole being burned. 

“I am fine, Jason. Really. You got there in time. Just let me heal the boys and I’ll go with you!” I sneered at him.

“How about no,” Jason sneered back and straddled onto the motorcycle behind me. His firm body was flush against the entire back side of mine. My breathing became uneven when he reached his arms around me and revved his motorcycle before accelerating. I tried not to lean back into him. But he was so warm and I was so tired. Jason must have felt my tension. His hand found my hip, as he continued steering with the other. He pushed back, forcing my body to melt into his. 

“I’ve got you,” he said, making me shiver. 

Gotham was a blur of lights as Jason drove us back to the Batcave. In a record, 6 minutes. Which I tried not to take personally.

He rode us through the entrance, and as close as he could get to my workstation. He got off quickly as if trying to get away from me. But just as quickly scooped me up from my underarms and placed me on top of my examination table. I blushed at the firm way he moved me around. Like I was his to just grab and move as he pleased. He was an extremely strong man. He made it seem like it was no effort at all. 

He roughly took off the Red Hood. His hair was a wild mess. His eyes were dark with what appeared to be anger and concern. His breathing quickened as he looked me over.

“What blood is yours?” He curtly asked, messily digging into my neat supplies. I tried not to cringe as he did. With his mask off it was a lot easier to understand him because I could read his lips and vaguely hear him.

I looked down at my red-stained hands. I curled them up and down. The blood was sticky and cracked. Suddenly, an assault of memories flooded my mind.

The hospital wing after the mass shooting—healing a man being tortured over and over for information—my mom's bloody nose—my bloody legs dripping into my sneakers. Breathing became sharp and rushed. 

A hand gently caressed my face, “Hey, hey. It’s just me. It’s Jason,” his voice and touch was gentle. Easing my mind back to reality. When I was no longer trapped in my own mind I realized that Jason was once again cleaning up my hands. He washed the blood off of them until you never knew I had stabbed a man in the neck. 

His hands were warm and calloused and thorough. For a moment he just held my hands in his. His thumb traced small circles on the inside of my wrist causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. Slowly, he trailed upward to my forearm, and an angry sigh left his mouth. Wordlessly, he cleaned and tended my cut. Wordlessly, he wiped the blood and brain matter from my face and neck. Wordlessly, he took off my stained hoodie and disgusting scrubs. Until I was left in my white undershirt and tight black shorts. 

His eyes were hard and staring just above the curve of my breast. Right where my heart rapidly beat. Right where the Black Mask had made a small but deep cut. And then his eyes trailed upward. Toward my bruised neck, and burned cheek. 

“I should have killed him slower,” he growled out. I hadn’t realized how close Jason was to me. Somehow he had gotten between my legs and mere inches away from my face. My cheeks heated, as I took in the oddly delicate features of this harsh man. He had a very light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. His eyes were more of a stormy gray than blue. His eyelashes were so pretty and long I wanted to slap him. And his Cupid’s bow was sharp and defined which highlighted his full lips. I swallowed roughly. 

“Thank you, for—for helping me,” I whispered, afraid that if I spoke any louder I might scare him off. 

Jason scoffed angrily, “You shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place. I’m going to beat Bruce with an inch of his life—”

Gently, I gripped Jason’s hand, “I chose this. Don’t be mad at Bruce. If anything, be mad at me. I should have been more prepared. I should have brought a weapon.” 

Jason leaned his forehead in so it was just barely touching mine. I involuntarily held my breath. 

His hands reached for mine as he traced along my old burns. “We are bad for you.” He whispered. 

“You guys have given me a part of myself that I thought was lost forever. How could that ever be bad?” I lifted a hand hesitantly up toward his cheek. Jason leaned in like he was desperate for the contact. For comfort. For me. 

“I can’t get you out of my head. I want—” Jason’s soft words were interrupted by the screeching of my car followed by the Batmobile. Jason practically jumped five feet away from me. I frowned at the lack of contact.

Well, Bruce is well enough to drive, that’s good. Pretty fucking shit timing though, Batboy. 

I lowered myself from the table. I tried hiding my wince, but I saw Jason tense. He reached forward steadying me, before scolding, “Do not push yourself for them.” 

Dick came out of my car with a large dimpled smile and a huge ugly shinner. Bruce looked pale but better. I motioned for them to sit where I was just perched. Ready to finish healing them.

Bruce was simple. I just had to re-patch him up. Finish what I started. Dick was a bit more complicated. Homie had the snot beat out of him. One of the bright sides was that he wasn't shot. 

When I was done, both Dick and Bruce politely excused themselves to their rooms. 

I slowly cleaned up my workstation. Jason silently helped me. His mouth was a firm line. 

My hands shook with exhaustion when I was done. My eyes went in and out of focus. My head was pounding from the exertion and the physical trauma. I covered my bad ear, trying to will the ringing to stop. Jason noticed and gently pulled me to him. Before I knew it he had his arm under my knees and back, and he cradled me into the elevator.

I snorted at him, “I’m fine, Jason, really. Don’t go through the trouble of carrying me.”

“I think I want to rip that word out of your vocabulary,” he snapped. “Let me just carry you. Don’t make it a big deal.”

My heart sank, and I whispered, “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“While I’m at it, I’ll take that one too,” he said, pressing the button number 4. Our floor number. “Don’t lie to me and tell me you’re fine. Don’t ever apologize for existing.” He huffed and paused, “Please.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. The elevator ride went by shockingly quickly. He walked past his room and into mine. He set me down on my bed gently. He pulled my blankets back and covered me. I got deja vu as he did it. I smiled under my covers. 

Jason pulled an armchair towards my bed. He angled it so he could see both the door and the windows. I looked at him, confused. 

He shrugged at me, “I didn’t like seeing a man have a gun in your mouth. I actually don’t think I saw it for more than two seconds before everything went red.”

“So, that explains why you’re watching me in my armchair because…”

Hashbrown barrelled toward Jason. She rubbed her body on his feet demanding attention. Jason swiftly picked her up and held her on his lap. She seemed to soothe him as he pet her. The tension in his body decreased, instead of ramrod straight he leaned back. Almost comfortable, but not quiet. 

“Because I need to make sure that you’re okay,” he said after a few minutes went by. 

“Why?” I asked, needing an answer. 

“I don’t like it when you’re hurt. Or in danger,” he answered. 

“Why?” I demanded, again. 

He roughly raked a hand through his messy hair, “I don’t know why. I just feel like… like you’re mine to protect. You put all your energy into healing other people. You deserve someone to care if you’re healthy and safe.” 

I think only two people in the world have ever cared about that. Sam and my mom. His words were like wildfire to my mind and body. 

Warmth bloomed in my chest, followed by boldness, “Do you have to protect me from all the way over there? Or can you protect me in my bed?”

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno @killxz @morpheus-girl @redhood414 @bungunz @conicoroahre @greenyofthegreens @taytaylala12 @theroyalmanatee @nym-0-s @sarahskywalker-amadala @bonesbonesetc @dreaming-of-the-reality @gone-batty-fics @thescarletcryptid @bakugosgf2005 @irregular-child @vythika96 @greenyofthegreens @mythicalmo @eccentricarabella-blog @princessbl0ss0m @ghostindeath @whirlwind2005 @the-lights-are-loud @00hellohello00 @tfygcdy @theblindhag @murkyponds @midnightecko @crookedmakerfury @cosmicqueenieb @deans-spinster-witch @princessbl0ss0m

If I missed anyone please let me know <3

Author's note: Thank you all so much for your kind words, comments, messages, and interactions!! They inspire me to keep writing. I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story, thank you again <3

Hashbrown Cam!

#batman #batfam #batfamily #jason todd #dick grayson #barbara gordon #duke thomas #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #nightwing #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #x reader #female x reader #whump #whumptober 2023 #whump writing #dc comics #dc universe #dc fanfic #fluff #angst